


Good With Words

by EmeraldLatias



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23624302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldLatias/pseuds/EmeraldLatias
Summary: “You do know that this is an excuse to have you talk to her, right?”Felix has never been good with words. Despite this, when Annette asks for his help with her songs when she gets in a creative rut, it doesn't occur to him to tell her no. (Felix/Annette with some wingman Sylvain for good measure.)
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	Good With Words

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to try my hand at this pairing since it was one of my absolute faves from the game. I've not written for this fandom yet despite sinking in like 190 hours into Three Houses, so apologies if the characterization is slightly off (hopefully my experience in writing for similar-ish characters in my main fandom will help bridge the gap though). 
> 
> On a tangent, I always wanted to use the 'no beta, we die like Glenn' tag. Achievement unlocked.
> 
> Any comments would be greatly appreciated. Thanks and enjoy! :)

Felix jolted upright at the sight of Sylvain materializing at the edge of his peripheral vision, nearly knocking over the pot of ink on his desk in the process. Once he stilled the pot’s wobble with an open palm, he stuck the quill in it with a little too much fervor.

“I’d ask if your crest accidentally activated but the _‘cat that got caught eating the canary’_ look you’ve got going on tells me otherwise.”

“Shut up Sylvain.” Felix groused, flipping over the piece of parchment he’d been writing on, indifferent to the possibility that the freshly-inscribed ink would smudge. “What are you even doing here unannounced like this?”

“See, that’s the thing.” he prefaced, taking a step forward to tap a finger on the offending paper. “You were completely absorbed with what you were writing on that to notice that I did announce myself loud and clear with a solid knock on your door. Not to mention the hinges on that thing let out a good and long squeal too. You should get some oil for that.” 

“It can wait. There are more pressing matters to attend to than a creaking door.”

“Alright, alright, fair enough. I mean, if my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me, I think I saw the word yum on your _p_ —” The sentence was pre-maturely clipped by a loud wheeze and sputter as Sylvain doubled over slightly. “—Gods…Felix. What is…wrong with you? Since when do you punch people?”

“You’re as good as dead if you solely rely on weapons to attack or defend.” Felix answered matter-of-factly. “I don’t just practice swordsmanship, Sylvain.”

“Still, knowing how to punch is a lot different than choosing to. You normally resort to insults outside the battlefield. This is weird, even for you.” he countered, a few residual coughs escaping as he retreated from his reach to cross the room and plop himself in the middle of his bed. “For the record, I was here to tell you that I was able to pick up your order from that merchant when I was running errands in town. But now, I think I’ll need to know why you’re acting so defensive about that paper with all the crossed-out words before I regain enough strength to get up and give it to you.”

Felix got up from his chair to shoot him an annoyed stare, only to receive a smug look in kind. The glint in his eye was unsettling.

“Sylvain Jose Gautier, if you’re going to do that bit where you—”

“-I don’t know…what you’re talking about Felix.” he lamented with the fakest-sounding sigh in all of Fódlan as he pivoted to lay down on the bed with his head rested on the pillow, outstretching all of his limbs for dramatic and coverage purposes. “I just need to rest a bit to recover from that nasty sucker punch. That’s all.”

“I’d help drag your pathetic body two doors down to your room but I assume you’d make it a futile effort. So I’ll cut to the chase so I don’t have to resort to knocking you unconscious first. Why do you care?”

The thing about Sylvain was that he was far more shrewd and observant when he let on, preferring to lean into façade of the easy-going skirt chaser without a care in the world besides his next conquest. In Felix’s opinion, that also made him a giant big pain in the ass to deal with on the odd occasions he turned these keen powers of observation against him instead of actively choosing indifference.

Sylvain raised the back of his left hand on his forehead. “Since it didn’t look like you were responding to some kind of missive, it’s not so much caring than curiosity.” he frankly told him. “I was here for a bit before you noticed my presence and I wasn’t being particularly stealthy. The only time I’ve witnessed you zone out that badly before was when you were preoccupied with mastering some new technique the Professor gave you to work on. So, to put it bluntly, this was a rare sight to behold.”

“Sounds like anecdotal evidence that I have the ability to concentrate on serious tasks. Must seem like a foreign concept to you, I’m sure.”

“Aaah, so it’s for something important. Interesting.”

“ _—No._ ” The word escaped a little too fast for his liking, forcing him to think even faster on the follow up. “…I’d meant serious as in something that wasn’t some frivolous pursuit, not as in gravely important.”

“Yeah, but the return of the _‘cat eating the canary’_ look on your face says otherwise, Felix. The fact you didn’t consider what you were working on frivolous and refused to tell me what it was for is still telling. I mean, you could have told me you were writing a grocery list on a used piece of parchment and I probably wouldn’t have thought much of it.”

_Damn it all._

He didn’t have any retort to silence him. And as much as he wanted to, his earlier threat was an empty one with the looming march towards Enbarr heavy on his mind.

“Fine.” he grudgingly conceded. “I was asked to help with a creative endeavor on the basis of providing an unorthodox perspective for obvious reasons.”

“Sure that part might be obvious, but what still isn’t is why you agreed.” He sat up and swung his legs over the mattress’s edge, finally ditching the ailing invalid act. “And something tells me it’s not blackmail because you would have mentioned that you were forced to do it. Was it Annette who asked for your help?”

The tips of Felix’s ears burned. “How did you—”

“Lucky hunch, really.” he admitted with a light chuckle. “So what does she want you to help with? I assume it’s not for a training regimen.”

Normally, Felix would have threatened to skewer him at this point but with violence off the table — mostly because Sylvain’s longer reach would thwart any attempts to recover his swords from his bedside anyway — he accepted that giving out breadcrumbs to satiate him was the path to least annoyance.

“It’s Annette. What do you think she needs help with?”

“Uh…not sure what you mean by that Felix. Any time I’ve talked to her during some downtime, she had her nose in some kind of spell book. And no offense but, if I wanted someone to come up with ideas for creative uses for spells, I’d ask her over you.”

The swordsman couldn’t decide whether he was more pleased that Sylvain had no frame of reference to understand his comment or annoyed that this miscalculation would force his hand to toss an entire loaf of bread at his face instead of just crumbs.

“She asked for help with new lyrics because she’s been coming up with nothing for the past week.” he curtly explained. “And in case you weren’t aware, she sings songs she makes up.”

“No, I did know that. The Professor made her my adjutant a few times on the battlefield so I’ve heard her do it. That said, it’s not exactly the kind of thing I’d assume she’d need to ask help for.”

“…I don’t follow.”

“Let me put it this way,” he said, pausing slightly to collect his thoughts, “It would be like you asking me to help you with rudimentary sword techniques. Coming up with songs seems like it’s second nature to her, you know?”

“Anyone can fall into a rut. It happens.” Felix shrugged. “Now will you get out of my room since you have your answer?”

“Not quite. Answer one last question and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Goddess, preserve him — he was tempted to cast Thoron on this fool and be done with this.

“And for what reason should I entertain this nonsense?” he caustically replied.

“Because I’m your friend and I can see where this is going even if you don’t or won’t.”

Felix crossed his arms and pursed his lips into a thin line.

“In my experience, Annette is the kind of person who would chip away at a problem day and night without asking for help. Not out of pride or anything like that, it just…wouldn’t even occur to her that it’s an option on the table, so to speak.” the redhead pointed out. “So if this is her bread and butter, I don’t think she’d be waving the white flag this fast or like, ever.”

The thin line got thinner.

“You do know that this is an excuse to have you talk to her, right?”

“So long as it’s not some diversion to make me fall into a pit trap, I don’t care.” the swordsman deadpanned. “Now leave.”

Sylvain got up from the bed but instead of yielding to the threat, he opted to walk close enough so he was just out of pummeling range before stopping.

“Whatever you do doesn’t have to be perfect. If it comes from the heart, you’re good.”

Felix snorted. “If I actually gave a damn about what you’re insinuating, I’d say that’s rich, coming from you.”

“Maybe. How does the old saying go? Do as I say, not as I do? Or something like that. At any rate, it sounded like more constructive than to tell you not to take a leaf out of my book because Annette would wonder if you hit your head. Anyway, I’ll go get your parcel and bring it back here.”

“Tomorrow’s fine, Sylvain. I don’t need it right away.”

“Works for me. ‘Night, Felix.”

“…Night.”

After that, the redhead promptly left. Once the door was closed, the swordsman let out a grumble as he returned to the task at hand and retook his seat at the desk, staring at the parchment paper with renewed irritation.

Sylvain was right on far too many things.

Annette was a hard worker and to ask him to help with lyrics was a farce of the highest order. If their positions had been reversed, he would have asked Manuela or Dorothea for help, not someone whose imagination was most productive while shooting down stupid ideas or derailing useless war council meetings.

But while wordsmithing was not his forte, nor was breaking promises he’d made.

And so he grabbed the quill and began scribbling on the untouched side of the paper and went to work.

Anything was better than nothing, Felix told himself over and over as words were systematically written then crossed out. Even if it was pathetically-bad, perhaps it would inspire her out of spite or something.

Still, this was hard. How did she do this more or less on command?

Figuring she’d never see this page anyway, he jot down a small note to ask her what the process was like. Once he had the better part of the page filled, he re-read the words and noticed that the cadence to the short phrases wasn’t too far off from one of her songs.

Perhaps with a little refinement, he could kill two beasts with one stone, he thought to himself.

He set the messy page to the side and grabbed a fresh piece of parchment, thoughtfully-transcribing the words he hadn’t crossed out in his small and tidy print with a little too much pressure on the quill’s tip.

Felix kept at it until the flame of his candle was on the verge of snuffing itself out and he couldn’t tell if it was ink stains, shadows or his heavy eyelids making things hard to read. It would only invite more questions if he fell asleep with his face buried in a plate of food tomorrow morning at any rate.

After conceding defeat, he put away the writing supplies and retreated under the warmth of his bed’s blankets. And for the first time in a long time, sleep claimed him immediately after he closed his eyes.

* * *

Several days later, Felix found himself at the entrance way of the greenhouse, intently staring at the lone crouched figure clad in orange, teal and white from across the opposite end.

The Professor, Dedue and even the monastery’s gardener were all absent. As he squeezed the folded piece of parchment with his fingers and counted down from five under his breath, he couldn’t decide if luck was on his side or if it had finally ran out when no one barged in.

“Annette.” he called out, instead of thinking on the answer to that question.

There was no response but he willed his legs to continue walking – there was never going to be a good time for this.

A few steps later, he could hear she was mumbling half-formed words under her own breath as she watered the plants in front of her. He stopped the moment they shifted into full-fledged words however.

 _“Mystery seed, mystery seed…oh how I wonder what you’ll grow to beee…”_ she sang as she rose from her crouched position.

“Annette.”

_“—Aaah!”_

Her watering can flew straight at him when she violently spun around, the contents of said can splashing him in the face and chest despite the fact he was more than an arms’ length away. If he hadn’t been soaking wet and busy wiping the droplets off his chin with his free hand’s sleeve, he would have commended her on her aim.

“Felix!” she yelled indignantly. “Why do you always spook me like that? Haven’t I already told you that you should say something a little louder when you come in?”

“I recall the conversation yes, but there’s little point if I have to yell over your new song and end up spooking you anyway.”

The fight drained out of her as she dipped her head, her cheeks now brighter than her hair.

“I’m sorry for spraying you with water.” she apologized as she sheepishly looked up at him. “And before you ask, I really didn’t have any new songs when we last talked at the library. The Mystery Seed song is super brand new. Like, what you heard is me just coming up with it on the spot and honestly… I’m starting to wonder if you have some kind of secret hidden talent to show up when I’m in mid-song.”

He shrugged. “While it’s an improvement over being called a villain, I wouldn’t call it talent when I knew you’d be here.”

He didn’t think it possible but somehow she was even redder than before.

“Ahh, right. I did tell you it was my turn for garden duty today. _Anyway,_ so I take it you came up with a song?”

“Calling it a song would be generous.” He extended the hand with the folded paper to give it to her. “Dealing with a bothersome pest and other things required my attention so I didn’t have much time to write since we last spoke.”

“Well, something is better than nothing, you know? I appreciate that you tried your hand at it anyway.”

She took the parchment and eyed it for a moment before unfolding the contents carefully as if she was dealing with most delicate of silks. It might as well have been considering it was weathered between the creases and thoroughly scarred with strikes of ink.

As her eyes began to dart back and forth to read the contents, Felix raised a sleeve to wipe his dry face for good measure and picked a patch of flowers behind her to stare at. Try as he might however, picking a random section of garden to have a one-sided staring contest with meant nothing as his brain was more occupied with the words she was reading and fixating on how stupid she probably thought they were but would be too polite to admit.

-

_Annette, I’m not very good at this,_

_The scratched out words are hard to miss._

_But I’m not one to just give up and quit,_

_Even if my blade is sharper than my wit._

_So while any fool can pick words that rhyme,_

_It pales in comparison to the songs you sing all the time._

_I realize now how it’s easier to cut down than create,_

_So if you’re at a loss of words, perhaps we can collaborate._

_Truthfully, I don’t know how much help I’d be._

_Maybe you can sing about cats?_

_P.S. That last section was a request, not part of this pathetic attempt of whatever this is. I’m tired of rhyming._

-

He snapped back to reality from rumination when a soft giggle escaped her lips. It was the smallest of mercies that he wasn’t startled so he could pretend like handing her this poor excuse of poetry wasn’t a big deal.

“You know,” she began, with a mirthful look, “I was half-expecting you to write something like _‘I’m still wondering about the boom in the library’_ to rhyme with the _‘help I’d be’_ before the post script explained.”

“You’re never letting that go, aren’t you?”

“Nope. That moment still haunts me so I have to find ways to get you back.”

She had an ear-to-ear grin now as she handed him back the page. The nerve. Why he kept on letting her get away with roasting him was beyond comprehension, honestly.

“I’d argue that a more effective method of dealing with something I’d long-forgotten would be to not bring it up.” Felix dryly responded. “The second best option would be to address the plot hole.”

“Let me guess. You’re not going to let that go now, are you?”

He shook his head. Two could play this game.

“Not anymore, no.”

“Ugh. I’d complain but I guess I did sorta bring that upon myself by poking fun. Ok, Mr. Felix, make good on your words in this letter and collaborate with me here. Let’s go over this _‘plot hole’_ by _‘plot hole.’_ ”

“Alright.” Felix paused to unceremoniously stuff the folded paper into his glove. “The first problem is that the flash and boom suggests it’s thunder-based reason magic. Light-based offensive spells are largely silent unless the enemy gasps in pain. Why use it to clean?”

“Well, look at it this way – maybe the spell being cast was an accident instead of being done on purpose. If you drop a heavy book, that would make a _‘boom’_ sound wouldn’t it? I know I’ve accidentally conjured weak versions of Wind-based spells by twirling around a little too much. I’d like to think the song’s protagonist is a little too excited to clean that a few spells let loose.”

“But wouldn’t that be more likely to leave the library in disarray than to help?”

“Ugh. Felix, it’s a song not a seminar.” she replied in minor exasperation, her smile sobering. “Can’t you suspend your disbelief for just a teeny bit of plot contrivance?”

_“I-”_

“-You know what, don’t answer that. Truth is, I couldn’t think of a good word that rhymed with room when I was cleaning.” she admitted. “Sometimes I put in placeholder lyrics for unfinished songs until my brain thinks of better lines. I didn’t get that far when you walked in that day. There, happy?”

“Not really. You’re getting worked up over nothing.” he answered a little more brusquely than intended. And still he couldn’t seem to rein it in. “If you hadn’t cut me off, I would have told you that I was only nitpicking because you asked me to address plot holes. It’s like getting mad that I’m not cutting you a slice of cake with my blade when you asked me to spar with you. If you don’t want me to, don’t ask me to.”

“I…can’t even argue against that. That’s a fair point – I shouldn’t have entertained that idea if I wasn’t up for an honest discussion. I’m sorry.” 

The regret seeped further in when he saw Annette visibly deflate. She wasn’t Sylvain or Ingrid who could take what he dished out and serve it back to him in kind. So why did he keep on falling into old patterns and forget she wasn’t the kind of punching bags they were for his hostility?

…Why?

That would require him to have an honest discussion of his own with himself. And part of said discussion required him to admit Sylvain might have been onto something even if he wanted to categorically deny it. Stupid observant bastard.

_Whatever. Here goes nothing._

“Annette…you don’t have to apologize.”

A bolt of Thoron electrified his guts when the words tilted her head upward and she re-established eye contact; her big blue eyes boring into his soul with her curiosity piqued.

“Why? You were right.”

Yet again he was forced to throw loaves instead of breadcrumbs and he wanted to kick his own ass for being an idiot.

“Because I’d be a hypocrite to expect an honest discussion when I was willfully playing along with this charade in the first place.”

“What do you mean?”

_Just rip the bandage off. Get it over with._

“I know you didn’t ask me to help come up with songs because I have some kind of talent for it. We both know I don’t.”

“Felix, did it ever occur to you that maybe I suggested this just to have fun?”

“It occurred to me that attempting something out of my comfort zone might be amusing to you, sure.”

“Well, it’s not like I was forcing you to, you know. If you didn’t want to you could have said no.”

“I know that. But fun isn’t the problem here.” he pointed out, pausing to clear his dry throat. “The problem is this… whatever this is that we keep on dancing around. It’s getting harder to ignore.”

The earlier blush on her face spread like wildfire and, judging by the shot of warmth hitting his ears, he was not immune to the flickering embers either.

“I-I see.” she stammered. “Well, _ah,_ is it a problem because it might be a distraction on the battlefield?”

“No. It would be an insult to our abilities to start assuming that if we’ve already made it this far.” he disagreed before an escaped sigh effectively shifted the tone of things. “…I’m not good with words but I have to concede that biting my tongue wasn’t helping matters either.”

While she said nothing, the unnaturally-blank expression on her face reminded him of the times he’d noticed her hunched over at a table in the library, completely absorbed in a book. Applying that context to this conversation made his skin crawl.

There truly was no going back now.

But even so, not being able to go back didn’t mean going forward was instantly made easier. He didn’t possess a silver tongue or even a clue on how to articulate this without sounding like a dullard or, even worse, like the Boar.

“-Felix?”

He blinked.

“You can say whatever it is, it’s ok.” she reassured him, taking a half-step forward to reach for his left hand to give it a light squeeze with both of her hands. “I won’t go anywhere. Promise.”

“It’s easy to say that before you know what it is I’d say.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll swear on my tomes! -Erm, at least I would have if I’d brought them… In my defense, I don’t think creating a tornado of flowers and plants is exactly helpful to care for them. You might even say it would leave the greenhouse in disarray.” 

His mind finally stopped swimming to register her hands were fairly warm. Strangely enough, between that and the additional joke made at his expense, it made him feel better in a way. At any rate, it coaxed the smallest of smirks despite his currently-electrified guts and burnt ears.

“Don’t know if I should be irritated that you’re using my own words against me for a punchline yet again or impressed at how quickly you came up with that turn of phrase to save face.”

“To be honest, I usually have to work at words and lyrics so even I’m impressed with myself too. What you witnessed there was the once in a blue moon instance where I was, quote-unquote ‘good with words’ on the first try.” she joked. “Anyway, speaking of that, what did you want to tell me?”

He’d thought of his own wayward words with the time she’d afforded him but it took him everything he had not to slip his hand away from hers or break eye contact. She deserved that much.

“Annette, I don’t want to be your captive anymore.”

The crestfallen look on her face stabbed him far worse than any weapon could muster. Much like tending to a fresh injury, a newfound sense of urgency to dress the wound and stop the bleeding overtook him.

“A captive is at the mercy of someone else.” he hastily explained, hoping he’d find the words in the next two seconds. “I…want to be by your side as an equal, doesn’t matter in what way. I value your company too much.”

The shock on her face dulled, giving way to the earlier look of concentration once more.

“You know…um…oh dear…” The rest of the sentence trailed off as if she was unable to do anything but turn completely red from head to toe in the seconds that followed. “…Ah, so, um, if we’re going to have this kind of talk, you need to be super-specific or else we’re going to end up where we always do in this old song and dance.”

What he wouldn’t give to have a body double, messenger or self-warp spell right now. A perpetual song and dance almost seemed better — it was movement, action, not him about to sound like a blithering idiot. The fact she was now rubbing her thumbs across the back of his hand was threatening to simultaneously calm him and undo him in the prolonged silence he’d created.

But words were what she wanted and so he’d suck it up and give them to her even if his heartbeat throbbed heavily in his ears.

“I… like you. Like you in the, uh…romantic way. If you don’t feel the same, I’ll respect your decision and get over it.” he admitted in a quiet voice, devoid of any of his usual venom and bite. “Just…don’t make these words cost me everything.”

“They won’t, Felix.” she told him, giving his hand another squeeze. “In fact, I think I understand you a lot better now. So you were afraid to make things, quote-unquote, ‘weird’ with me?”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about things getting weird.” she reassured, pausing full-stop before doubling the pace for a follow up clarification. “—I mean, outside the regular kind of weird. I wouldn’t exactly call myself normal like Mercie or Ingrid are. But you obviously know that. Obviously.”

The tension eased as Felix found himself amused. “You truly are good with words, Annette.”

“And you truly are a villain, Felix.” she retorted, relinquishing his hand from her grasp.

Before he could so much as mentally scold himself for the ill-timed teasing, she closed the space and wrapped her arms around his waist, the side of her head pressed against his chest.

“But it’s ok.” she quietly told him. “I still like you in the same way you like me anyway.”

After the words reached his ears, Felix looked down at her.

It took him by surprise when his instinct was to tentatively encircle his arms around her in kind rather than to let the hug run its course unrequited. It was calming and nearly intoxicating how warm she was against him, feeding into to this…unnamed feeling welling up in his chest and threatening to drown him in the most pleasant way if drowning could ever be described as such. When she nuzzled him ever so slightly a bit later, the dam broke. He needed more as he tightened his loose grip to rest his head against her shoulder.

They stayed like this for the better part of a minute, only reluctantly separating when Annette needed some air. He wasn’t surprised at the flush across her face but it was strange seeing her struggle to regain eye contact when she took a purposeful step back.

“You…ok?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine. Just need a moment. My brain is a little on the mushy side right now.” she admitted, taking in a rather theatrical gulp of air.

“You should have told me I was cutting off your circulation, Annette.”

“Oh no, no, no. You didn’t squeeze me that hard. It’s just…” she began to clarify, tucking a rogue strand of hair to the side as she looked up at him, “…I knew going in for a hug was a risk even though you like me but, it didn’t dawn on me until you hugged me back that it’s been a long time since I’ve had a really good hug. Or, well, how much I missed them.”

Felix opted to nod in response. Too much to parse between being told he hugged good or the comment instigating the realization it had to have been over a decade since someone dared to hug him.

“Soo anyway…I was wondering, would you like to collaborate on the Mystery Seed song with me?” she asked shyly, “I have a few ideas on the rest of lyrics but I’d like some input. Last time I made a song about plants growing during our academy days, someone else overheard and it creeped into a deep discussion that I really wasn’t aiming for. I kind of want something fun and whimsical this time around. Especially since we need all the cheer we can get nowadays, you know?”

Seemed like he wasn’t the only one with too much to process based on that abrupt change in topic, he thought. Not that he particularly minded.

“If you can tolerate me fumbling around, I wouldn’t mind. I’m not exactly an expert in cheer.”

“That’s no problem! I was thinking you could give some perspective I wouldn’t have to help narrow down options. You could tell me that a line could be taken in a weird way so it doesn’t happen after the song’s done. That way, the meaning isn’t as likely to get all twisted to the point where I have to basically start from scratch.”

“I think can manage that.”

“Alright. It’s settled then. Assuming my watering can isn't completely emptied out, I’ll finish up watering a few more plants then we’ll go find somewhere to go work on this song. It’ll be great.” she declared, clapping her hands together with newfound resolve. The thrum of energy radiating off her was, dare he admit it, infectious.

“That works.” he agreed. “I’ll take my leave now. Meet me in the library when you’re done?”

“Oh, right.” The tone was thankfully more of dawning realization than disappointment. “I suppose it would look a little weird if we just walked out together when this isn’t a two-person chore and you don’t really garden. See you soon then?”

After Felix gave her a curt nod in response, he lingered slightly before she went to pickup the errant watering can and he headed towards the entrance of the greenhouse. The further away he walked, he more couldn’t shake the gnawing sensation in the back of his mind as it grew stronger however.

On a whim, he turned around at the halfway point and saw Annette doing precisely what she told him she was going to do – tending to the last few flowers she’d missed. While not crouched, her back was turned so she didn’t notice he’d stopped and yet he couldn’t bring himself to resume his trek.

“Annette?” he called out in a voice that was loud enough to get her to pivot around, yet quiet enough to not take additional watering can spray damage as it remained firmly in her grasp.

“Yes, Felix?”

“Thank you. For understanding.”

“It’s no problem.” she replied with a warm smile. “We all have things we have to work at. We’ll get there when we’re ready to get there.”

Felix made a mental note to take back his earlier sarcastic remark about her being good with words – while she might have fumbled over phrases out of exuberance often enough, what he needed to hear most also came from that same source of determination and cheer. And this afternoon proved to be a testament to that if nothing else. 

And for that, he was exceptionally thankful.


End file.
